CHAPTER I.IN THE VALLEY.
A young officer in dingy Confederate gray rode slowly on a powerful bay horse through a forest of oak.

It was a noble woodland, clear of undergrowth, the fine trees standing in rows, like those of a park.

They were bare of leaves but the winter had been mild so far, and a carpet of short grass, yet green, covered the ground.

To the rider's right flowed a small river of clear water, one of the beautiful streams of the great Virginia valleys.
Harry Kenton threw his head back a little and drew deep breaths of the cool, crisp air.

The light wind had the touch of life in it.